The Division Agent Origins - Daughter of the Thousand Lakes
by MrMacju
Summary: What happens when a resilient Finn takes on the apocalypse? I originally wrote this short backstory of my agent in The Division 2 for myself, but then decided someone else would maybe want to read it. The lore of this game is fantastic, and even if my contribution is not the greatest one, it's still a mark I'm willing to leave. PS: Finnish translations are at the end.
1. Part 1: Enter Jess

The Division 2 Agent Origins

Agent Haze

* * *

*Click* *Click*

That's the sound a gun makes when the last round has left the chamber. Usually it means death. But sometimes miracles do happen and by sheer luck everything can turn better. This was not one of those moments.

*BLAM*

The combatant stood still before collapsing with a huge hole on their head. As the light went out in their shining green eyes one could almost see a lifetime of goals and desires slipping away into the eternal abyss of death which had claimed the person the second their firearm had betrayed them.

A sigh was heard. In the still of the night, the other party stepped out from behind the great oak tree that had served as their cover. Slim but calloused hands caressed the bullet-filled bark as they stepped out into the bright moonlight to inspect the victim. A brown pair of eyes stared at the green which would never stare back again. They inspected the open mouth, frozen agape from panic, that would never again shout profanities across the street. The person breathed in. And then out, the flow of adrenaline slowing down and their heart rate calming.

Only then did the sounds of the city return. The still silence was occasionally broken by a single bird or an explosion which signified the start of another fight a couple blocks east. The person also became aware of the whirring above their head. Damn. They'd almost forgotten. A few beeps later the whirring stopped and the signature blue light coating them died out, with only the moonlight blanketing the lone figure and their victim. Sorry, I mean victim_s_. If one looked close enough, they could see more bodies scattered around the abandoned street, each with their own looks of horror frozen to their faces, their own pasts and futures rapidly escaping them. The person looked around, inspecting the bloodbath they had created. It was unfair. They had been outnumbered. They should be dead. But the power they had been granted had helped them prevail. This was the reality they lived in. This was their city. This was their life, and their own foreseeable future, created by a madman and established by many more.

Damn. Radio chatter. He must want to know what had happened. What they'd been up to. And right in the middle of their silent moment. No ambushes. No missions. No responsibilities, at least at this moment. Was that too much to ask?

He's persistent. But he means well. Ortega is a good man, always putting others before himself. Come on, you're making him sick with worry. ISAC tells him your vitals are well, so why aren't you responding? What is wrong? Do you need help? These are the thoughts running through his head, and all because you're too uncaring to respond. Whatever. An agent's duty is never done might as well get back to it. A light tap to the ear is all it takes to activate the comms. All it takes to pull them, pull _her _back to the world anyone would wish to leave behind as easily as the green-eyed victim who faced her wrath earlier.

"Agent Haze here. All is well, just enjoying the night air. What's up?"

She can almost feel the smile and a wave of relief forming on Mannys face. They had lost so much already. They couldn't lose Fraser too. He said this all without speaking a word, but she understood. Just like every one of them understood.

"Kept me waiting, huh, Jess? Get back here, you dreamer, we have new intel," the voice she'd come to know so well during these last few weeks responded.

"Copy that. Haze, out."

The first few steps were the hardest. Getting back up after stopping was always the most painful when all you wanted to do was lie down and rest. But as the night swallowed Jessica Aino Fraser once more, any observer could have spotted a pleasant smile forcing itself back to her face. Sure, this was hell. But it was a hell she had signed up for, a hell every SHD agent was a part of. And they would battle every demon within it until it would freeze over.


	2. Part 2: Immigrant

The Division 2 Agent Origins

Agent Haze

* * *

In Finnish, a young girl who cares for nothing but their clothes and appearance is called a pissis. Ms. Meri was one who never quite aged up. So when she met her future husband Mr. Fraser on a cruise ship, she'd found the perfect man. Handsome, wealthy and caring, Fraser was the best treat she managed to score. Son of a successful American architect, she figured a life of luxury awaited her. Until she realized that dear Samuel wanted to live a life on his own terms, without relying too much on his fathers money. So a few years later they settled down in a nice, quiet house on the outskirts of Helsinki. Sure, it wasn't the modern mansion in California she had hoped for, but she had peace, quiet and a loving husband. There wasn't anything else she wanted from life at the moment.

That all changed thirteen months later when cries of a small child filled the humble home. Mrs. Fraser had successfully delivered a beautiful baby girl whom they named Jessica Aino Fraser through the tears in their eyes. Her proud mother could already see her daughter continuing her failed career as a model, acting as her own personal Barbie doll. So you can imagine the disappointment she felt when 10-year-old Jess started to spend most of her time at the gun range with her father rather than at the catwalk with her mother. A former marine and a thrillseeker, Mr. Fraser wanted to always be ready for action in case his country called for war, whichever one it may be. His surprise and alarm after he spotted baby Jessica inspecting his pistol turned into amusement and hearty chuckles when she tried to imitate her dad with her weak, pudgy arms. And back into panic after the girl's mother spotted the two and screamed at him for almost allowing their daughter to kill herself. But from then on, any time she managed to rip off the different dresses and hats she was forced to wear, Jessica snuck into her father's car and they drove off to their moment of loud, but calming freedom. This amused Mrs. Fraser not one bit, and she tried new things all the time to get her daughter to forget such "boyish foolishness." But no amount of makeup or training high heels could sway the girl.

The line was crossed on Jessica's 12th birthday, when her mother forced a tight corset she had bought on her screaming and begging daughter, breaking four ribs in the process. That was the last straw for the straining relationship of her and Samuel Fraser, who promptly won the custody of their daughter in the divorce court after the judge saw her injuries. They flew off only two days later, hoping to get away from the crazed woman as soon as possible. As the plane landed in New York, little Jess stared at the new world that awaited her in amazement. This was going to be great!

* * *

It wasn't.

The small flaw in their escape was that a girl just entering puberty needed a mother figure to guide her. Without one, Jess had to figure everything out with what little information her father could give her, which distanced the girl from her dad. Samuel wanted to help his daughter, but his own mother had passed away years prior and he was afraid to enter a new relationship in fear of the tragedy repeating itself. School wasn't that much better. Girl groups never accepted her due to her lack of similarities with them, and the boys made her uncomfortable with their constant attention. Apparently, American teenagers are really fond of foreign girl with guns. Who knew? The end result was Jessica going through school as a loner with only a few friends, focusing mostly on her studies. Her old cheerful self who was always happy to help others faded away, and she developed a quiet, withdrawn personality that followed her to the range as she got old enough to hold the gun steady. The formerly happy moments between her and her father turned into professional training sessions where neither spoke much.

Years passed. Jessica graduated and moved to Chicago, away from her father. She got her permit and driver's licence and started to visit the range herself. But even with top grades, she couldn't figure out what to do with her life. So she joined the army where her shooting experience was useful. And for the first time in years she found companionship. Her squadmates didn't know or care who she had been, only who she was. And to them she was the quiet, dependable Finn they were happy to have their backs. Slowly, but surely, a smile began to enter her face once more like a sun through thick clouds, and she could feel a bit of her old self returning. For the first time in years, there were people that really mattered in her life. Determined to not let them down, she trained as a combat medic to keep everyone she cared about safe. Success both back home and on the battlefield followed, and even attracted the attention of a few more secretive eyes. After 9 years in the army, she retired at the age of 28 and went back home to think about her next move.

The apartment was quiet when she arrived. She threw down her bags and collapsed to bed, the farewells of her comrades still fresh in her mind. Lake Michigan glowed in the moonlight, illuminating its great shores visible through her window high up in the 15th story. A content sigh escaped her lips. Her duty was over. Now it was time to rest, and whatever the future would throw at her, she would take it on.

* * *

Nearly asleep, she couldn't hear the the ding of the elevator. Or the footsteps approaching. A dark figure stopped right outside her door, staring at the nameplate. This was the one. A potential new recruit. Their hand rose to knock, but was stopped by another. The person jerked their arm out of the grip and pulled something out from their pocket. The other person reacted calmly to the gun pointed at their face and put their hands up.

"Who the hell are you?" the first person asked. The other reached slowly into their pocket, careful to not make any sudden movements, and pulled out a badge which they threw to the one with the gun. They picked it up and inspected the item, their look of determination turning into surprise.

"It's really you…"

"Yes. It's really us."

"And you want her?"

"That was the intention, yes."

"I believe we were here first."

"You were, but we're higher up on the list."

"Should we take this to our superiors, or…?"

"No need. Presidential orders."

The person with the gun reluctantly lowered their firearm. The other one put their hands down and took a step forward to retrieve their badge.

"Are you sure about this? Just imagine the good she could do with us," they reasoned as they handed it out.

"Sorry, buddy. But even the Ghosts cannot touch this one."

The conversation was finished. The two stared at each other. Words of defiance bubbled in their gut, but the person knew it was futile. They would understand.

Turning on their heels, the person went back the way they came. Confirming they were gone, the other one directed their attention to the door. Yes. This was for the best.

They reached out and knocked, their sleeve rolling down to reveal their glowing orange wristwatch.


	3. Part 3: Activated

The Division 2 Agent Origins

Agent Haze

* * *

After Gordon Amherst ruined the reputation of Black Friday for everyone forever, it was hard to move around. Cars with empty tanks blocked the streets. Quarantines and checkpoints cut most ways of travel. Getting to New York was hopeless. Jessica tried to get to her dad, but Chicago had closed off to prevent the disease getting in. Luck had been on their side. The few infected had been quarantined swiftly, and law enforcement was still working. But the streets were patrolled relentlessly to prevent any trouble and to catch possible Green Poison victims who had escaped, which meant getting out was a rare opportunity. So when the containment failed and the virus began to tear the city apart, she took the chance and escaped through the perimeter during the chaos. She felt bad leaving her home in the middle of a catastrophe, but she wanted to be with her family, however distant it may be.

The trip took weeks. Scavenging and repairing the bicycle she found had taken most of her time, as well as avoiding hostile looters. Her gun didn't have much ammo, and spare mags were hard to come by. So when the call came at night and her watch lit up the dark gas station she had taken refuge in she couldn't help but swear. The activation filled her both with relief and dread. This was it. The real thing. This was their fight now, their responsibility. Putting on her AR Lens and attaching the SHD beacon to her backpack opened up the digital world she had last seen during training. She almost ripped the lens right off. What had once been a simple holographic map of USA was now lit up like a Christmas tree, different icons representing different threats and problems. Jess realized how sheltered and lucky they had been in Chicago. All this in just eighteen days? It was insane. Her immediate vicinity was clear, but she was in the middle of nowhere, a log way from New York which seemed to be the center in it all.

"Report at the Base Of Operations? Gee, thanks, I'm only a _few hundred miles away from it!_ This'll be a quick trip!" She swore to herself. The Division Commander didn't take the news well. Every agent was supposed to respond immediately at their nearest hotspot, and New York beat it to her by just a few miles. Also, there were absolutely no Division caches nearby because no one had assumed any agents would go on a roadtrip in the middle of a crisis. They said they would try to arrange transportation, but it was unlikely they could spare any. Defeated, she got back on her bike, then immediately discarded it because the snow layer had grown too thick to cycle through.

And so began the long trek of Agent Fraser towards by the abandoned highways towards the lights on her map. The journey was uneventful. She stayed clear of settlements and scavenged gas stations and restaurants along the roads for supplies. The feeling of uselessness was gnawing at her mind. Her brothers and sisters were fighting this war while she out here in the wilds desperately trying to reach her equipment. Screams and sounds of gunfire erupted from nearby towns, but she swallowed her sense of duty and steered clear of them, knowing it would do no good to anyone if she kicked the bucket before even reaching the real crisis zones.

* * *

It took nine days. the progress was slow due to snow, and the closer she got, the less she had to scavenge. But finally the sight of the Big Apple reached her. Where her duty awaited. And her father. And her…

"My gear!" she shouted as the AR map opened up in front of her, displaying the cache that had been assigned to her had been moved. It was no longer in the abandoned house in Staten Island, but in New Jersey.

"Because of course it's Jersey," she mumbled and contacted the Division Commander.

"Do you read me? This is Agent Fraser, finally here. I have a situation."

"Who are you? How are you on this channel?" Answered a new voice. Strange. This was supposed to be a direct line to the commander.

"It's me, Jessica Fraser, Division Agent, responding to my call a bit later than intended. I was on my way here when I got activated and assigned New York as my new area of operations. So who are YOU? Where's the commander?"

She could hear mumbling from the other side, as if an intense conversation was going on. After a while, the voice returned.

"This is Louis Chang, Division Commander, Second Wave. It's good to see you, Agent Fraser. And welcome to New York. Seems like you're the last of your kind."

"Excuse me? Care to explain?" Intense dread filled her. What did this mean? New Commander? Second Wave? Nobody had told her about this.

And so Commander Chang explained how the First Wave had failed, how most of them were dead, missing or gone rogue, and how the Second Wave was supposed to embark on Manhattan soon. Long silence followed as Jess took in the new revelations. She had failed. All of her comrades were gone before she'd even tasted any action.

"Agent Fraser?" Chang called out. She didn't respond. All this because she'd been so selfish and left Chicago. She could've remained and assisted the agents there, helped to take her city back.

"Listen, I know you must be devastated right now, but this fight isn't over yet. The First Wave might be gone, but you're still here, with us, ready for duty. So what do you say? Want to save this city?"

"Allright, Commander," she reluctantly responded. "But a word of warning: I'm going to shoot anyone who starts calling me "Wave 1.5.""

"Copy that. So, what did you want to talk to me about originally?"

10 minutes later Jess was making her way over the Bayonne Bridge. To join in on the action, she'd need her gear. Every single cache in New York had been picked clean, leaving the one left specifically for her the only source of untinkered Division Tech. ISAC had tracked the case to an old warehouse by the docks. Probably some random civilian had found a cool-looking cache and decided to try and open it. Hopefully they'd hand it over to a government agent without too much problem.

That hope was crushed as the warehouse door opened and a group of armed hostiles in winter camo walked out. She had to roll behind a burnt car to avoid being spotted, the ash and molten rust leaving dark imprints on her winter jacket. She glanced at the squad and figured out instantly that they meant business. ISAC confirmed this as the computer flagged them as extreme threats. So they must be the Last Man Battalion who'd been called in to protect the Wall Street during the collapse. She'd seen it in news before the cable went dark. They had apparently been working with the JTF at first, but had quickly decided to take control of the city themselves and were now flagged as one of The Division's greatest threats. But what were they doing out here? Weren't they trapped in Manhattan like everyone else?

The soldiers still hadn't spotted her. They were watching over the area, but didn't seem that interested in the task. Three men, one with a riot shield and an LMG, two armed with assault rifles. She checked her trusty M9 and the PP19 she'd nicked off a fallen rioter. One full clip, four for the handgun. Not enough for a fight, considering there were probably more men inside. Nearby agents were busy with threats emerging in Brooklyn, since they wanted the area clean before moving into Manhattan. She looked around, trying to spot something useful. There was nothing. She sighed. She knew a way in, but it wasn't pleasant. Hopefully they weren't completely without a heart.

* * *

"Help! Help! Thank God I finally found you!"

Shouts interrupted the patrol of Sergeant Patterson who raised his shield, ready to gun down any threat. He relaxed as a woman ran limping towards them, completely unarmed. When everyone wanted to shoot you on sight, it was a relief to see a friendly face for once.

"Please help me! I'm being chased!" she begged the men. As she approached, they could spot more details. The broken, dirty clothes which were hanging loosely on her body. The panicked features half hidden under her messy hair. The faint scars exposed by her ripped jacket and shirt. The men put down their weapons as she approached, completely unthreatening. She was more desperate than dangerous.

"Thank you, oh thank you, I'm saved! My friends have told me about you, you're the real heroes of this city! LMB, right? It's great to know I'm in good hands."

A smile formed on Patterson's lips under his balaclava. It seemed like their reputation preceded them. His men started to whisper behind their backs. One of them commented on her accent. The other pointed out how pretty she was. He shut them up with a menacing glance. Sure, they had to take most of the city by force, but that didn't mean they had no time for the common people.

"Speak your mind, citizen. What is wrong?" Patterson asked, trying to sound as stoic and self-assured as possible. A good impression was always important.

"These men, these horrible men, they cornered me, tried to rip off my clothes, tried to use me! I'm sure they're right after me! You'll do it, right? You'll save me?"

"Of course, madam. Can you describe these men to us? Any distinquishing features?"

She shuddered, obviously it caused her pain to remember her attackers.

"I can't tell you much. I remember they had bright orange lights on them, on their wrists and shoulders, glowing like the eyes of a demon! They're coming for me, I know they are…!" she rambled on, but the men had fallen silent.

"The Division." Patterson muttered. Immediately he raised his shield while pointing at the woman to get behind him. His men took their positions, whispering to each other.

"A real surprise those assholes would fall as low as to snag helpless women off the streets. Always knew that "save what remains" thing was just a cover for government takeover." said the other.

"Yeah. And apparently some are collecting their pay early. Maybe she'll be so grateful she'll give us something nice in return," fantasized the other.

"You two, keep the perimeter. I'll escort the lady inside," Patterson issued his orders. He took the woman by hand just as a hail of bullets blanketed the warehouse wall near them. The soldiers screamed and opened fire at the attacker.

"Where are they!?"

"I don't know! Keep shooting! Supress them! I'll get backup!" the shielded commander shouted as he led the unfortunate victim inside.

The warehouse was mostly empty, with just a few tools lying around on tables and a small boat hanging from the ceiling, apparently waiting for a cleaning that would never come. Three men were lounging around in plastic chairs while the fourth was trying to open the Division cache they had spotted earlier. They immediately darted to attention as Patterson entered, the sounds of gunfire following him.

"What are you idiots doing? Go out, help Banks and Blackburn take down those Division assholes!" The men grabbed their weapons, sprinting out of the still-open door and taking position behind some cars, still trying to spot the attackers. Patterson went to shut the door. With a sigh he turned to the woman waiting by the workbench.

"Sorry about that. My men will take them down and then we'll escort you to LMB territory where we can protect you."

The woman finally relaxed. Weeks of hiding and scavenging were finally over. Order was coming back.

"Thank you to much, Mr…"

"Lt. Patterson. And your name, madam?"

"You may call me Aino."

Patterson chuckled. A weird name. He edged closer to her, reaching out to a clipboard to mark down her information.

"Seems like you're not from around here, judging by the name, and your-"

"Accent, yes. Everyone comments on it. No, I'm from Finland. Travelled here to do some shopping on Black Friday but got caught up in this mess. I've been living on the streets ever since my hotel was evacuated."

"Well, your days of worry are over. LMB will take care of you now," Patterson promised. "Now if you could fill out some info so we can get you your papers. We'll be free to go as soon as those men are dealt with." He stepped only a few feet from her, handing her the clipboard and a pen. They stood around as she was writing down everything necessary, an awkward silence filling the room. When she finally handed it back, Patterson tried to start some small talk.

"So, Finland? It must be even colder in there than here, right?"

"Mmmhm." she mumbled agreeingly as he checked the list. Name: Jessica Aino Fraser. Nationality: Finnish.

"Isn't that the place with all the Moomin and reindeers and… Santa Claus?"

"You are absolutely right. And Santa told me you have been a bad boy lately…"

Relationship: Single… and looking. Patterson almost chuckled. Seemed like the Division was onto a right kind of fish here. Maybe, just maybe…

"And you beat the Russians if I remember correctly. That was great."

She laughed out loud. "Oh, that's not the only thing we beat. Or will beat, for that matter."

"Well, maybe you could teach me to speak some Finnish, maybe over at a meal?" Patterson suggested as he neared the end of the list. Health: Healthy, but allergic to bullshit.

"Actually, I could give you a crash course right now." She said just as he got to the end. Occupation: Division Agent.

Patterson had no time to react as a knife slit open his throat. Jess had moved faster than he could raise his eyes from the paper, leaving him gasping for breath and trying to stem the bleeding as life was rapidly escaping him.

"Hyvää yötä," she whispered as she caught his body. "Nuku hyvin."

Jessica let go of the man and promptly disarmed him. She'd rigged the submachine gun to fire by itself with a World War 1-era water mechanism she'd seen in a history book once, giving just the right distraction to sway any suspicions. They had suspected nothing. After all, women were abused all the time, even more during an apocalypse. What was one more? The thought of having to act like a helpless damsel had been revolting, but it was better than to risk her life in a straight gunfight.

"Maybe I'll give your friends a quick lesson too as a reward for hospitality," she thought out loud as she lifted the machine gun formerly belonging to Lt. Patterson.

The LMB outside were getting restless. Where was the Division? They should have resumed their attack by now.

The question was answered as the warehouse door was kicked open by the helpless damsel they'd rescued, with a formerly concealed orange watch glowing on her wrist.

"Hello boys! I have a lesson for you! You first phrase today is: Painukaa helvettiin!"

Machine gun fire ripped the first two men full of holes. The other scrambled away from the door and tried to shoot back, but were swiftly denied by an avalance of bullets. Car windows broke, snow flew around, and screams of panic echoed across the street.

"Very good! We can move on to lesson two: Haistakaa paska, vitun kusipäät!"

The soldiers watched in horror as a signature SHD Turret flew out and landed on top of a car, before establishing fire from an entirely new direction. Three men were silenced by the machine before anyone could react. The last one remaining had taken cover farther than the others and was breathing heavily as Jess reloaded her gun. She had not a care in the world. The situation was now under control.

"Great work, students! I can see real interest in the subject. We will end the day with: Näkemiin, saatanan mulkku!"

The last soldier resigned to their fate as they heard a Seeker Mine rolling down the snowy street towards their cover. He spent the rest of his life think about the new language he'd learned.

A nice little explosion finished the fight as Jess finally dropped the LMG. Sure, firepower was nice, but it just wasn't her weapon. Luckily Division Tech was so easy to modify, otherwise she wouldn't have assembled her arsenal in time. She ran back to the end of the street where she'd stashed her equipment, happy that it was all there. She quickly threw off the old garments she'd found and promptly mutilated. She silently thanked her mother for all those acting lessons. At least she'd left some good in her life. But as she returned to the field of battle, a curious thing drew her eye. It was a map, laid out on the workbench. She hadn't paid it much attention when she'd snatched the case off for unlocking, but now it locked her gaze. This explained the rocket launchers she'd seen in the corner.

"Agent Fraser? Good to see you still alive, but could this wait? I'm just about to pick up two agents, but don't worry, we'll come get you just after this," Commander Chang promised as soon as he answered the call.

"NO! Chang, get out of there! They know! They know you're coming! You have to—"

Her cries of panic were cut short as she realized the commander couldn't hear her. She ran outside and looked over at Brooklyn. A VTOL was landing on a shore where two Division agents awaited behind a police station. The noise of the rotors must have blocked his hearing as the door opened. Through the still open comms she could faintly make out his voice.

"Welcome, agent-" the sentence was cut short by a massive fireball enveloping the aircraft which carried most of the Second Wave agents, her new Commander and her second chance. The explosion rocked the ice floating softly on along the river, throwing back the two agents she could faintly make out. The comms grew silent, only a faint static could be heard before ISAC shut it off.

"Agent down. Life signs not found." Announced the AI, blissfully unaware of the gravity those words meant. Jessica Fraser collapsed to her knees, too weak to do anything but stay there and stare. She stared as the other agent scrambled to the other one, but her eyes couldn't see. She stared as the JTF helicopter announced its arrival, but hear ears couldn't hear. She stared as her watch bleeped, vibrating softly to get the attention of every possible agent still alive, but her hand couldn't feel. She still stared as the mechanical bird rose back to the skies, carrying its precious cargo, and she still stared as the swiftly approaching night claimed her with its darkness, taking with it the light in her eyes she thought she'd regained years ago.

* * *

Translations

Hyvää yötä - Good night

Nuku hyvin - Sleep well

Painukaa helvettiin - Go to hell

Haistakaa paska - Smell shit

Vitun kusipäät - Fucking pissheads

Näkemiin - Goodbye

Saatanan mulkku - Satanic Dick


	4. Part 4: Recovery

The Division Agent Origins

Agent Haze

* * *

The story of Agent Fraser did not end there on the New Jersey shore, even though it almost did. When the JTF troops found her, she was kneeling in front of a dead LMB trooper, a handgun dug deep into her forehead, her finger almost frozen on the trigger. If one had been knowledgeable enough, they would've identified the body belonging to Samuel Fraser, now dead by his daughter's hand.

He had told her in his emails he was itching back into action, she recalled. Apparently this was how. He'd probably wanted to save a few more lives before old age claimed his health. To do something good once more, even if it was as a mercenary. A quick service, just a few missions, without telling even his estranged daughter. And where had it left him? Dead, in the front of a warehouse in quarantined New York, trapped by an apocalypse and eventually executed by his own kin. They had passed each other by the door, but neither had recognized the other, Not Jess due to his balaclava or Sam because of her disguise. His body had already lost its heat by the time she eventually forced herself to move and discovered the face hiding beneath the mask as she was looting the men. He'd never had a chance. He was one of the two men she'd ripped apart with her machine gun as soon as she kicked out the door. He had no chance to identify himself to her, no chance to recognize his child. It was over before either one even knew it had happened. A fleeting moment of loss millions had suffered during these last few weeks.

It took an half an hour for the JTF to get her moving again. She was cold, hungry and exhausted, but still refused to leave her father's side. As they tried to yank her off, the turret still positioned nearby reacted to her distress and overrode the "Friendly" designation of JTF troops and let loose a final burst before the last of its battery died out and the machine self-destructed. The targets screamed and dropped down as the bullets narrowly missed them. One grazed the agent still frozen on the ground, ripping through her jacket and painting a short, bloody line on her shoulder. The pain seemed to snap her out of the trance and released all her pain, causing Jess to turn on her new allies with an animalistic scream, desperate to rid the world of these vermins who tried to take her away from her family. This could have easily signified the birth of a new rogue agent, but luckily she was unarmed, her knife lost under the fresh snow, and after a brief struggle which included screams, shouts and a few black eyes one of the JTF troops managed to knock her out with a taser. Everyone sighed as they witnessed her unconscious body hit the ground, her face buried in the snow. The rescuers looked at each other. If this was one of their city's saviours, what hope did they have?

* * *

"No."

"Really? Just like that?"

"No. No. No. Absolutely no!"

"Just please, think this through, we need her…"

"Look into her eyes! Can't you understand what she's been through? She's in no shape to fight!"

"Atleast she's still healthy! Look at me! What can I do when compared to her?"

"Not all wounds are physical, agent. Didn't they teach you that?"

"Look, you don't really understand the situation here."

"Maybe I don't, but my decision is final. An absolute no!"

"Well, you're probably forgetting that in the end, it's actually my call…"

Jess witnessed this conversation between Agent Faye Lau and the newly freed Dr. Jessica Kandel through her half-closed eyelids. For a second she wondered where she was, what she was doing, why was she in the bed? Then it all came back to her. The journey. The First Wave. The Commander. Her father…

"She's back! She's awake! Hurry, people, get me the sedatives!" A shout echoed across the Medical Wing as Jess began thrashing and screaming. They were gone, they were all gone…!

"Need some help here! I don't care what it is, just someone get me something to put her under with again!"

More people were gathering to see what was going on, including a few Division Agents who rushed to hold their colleague down as Kandel injected her.

"Let me go!" Jess screamed. "Vitun ääliöt, päästäkää irti! I'll kill you! Perkele! I'll put down anyone, I don't care! Just—" she was cut short as the sedatives began to affect her, once again clouding her mind as the comforting darkness consumed her once more.

Dr. Kandel breathed a sigh of relief and swiped the sweat off her forehead as the crowd began to disperse, Lau instructing the other agents to keep any onlookers out. Kandel waited until she came back and sat down next to the wreck they called an Agent, burying her face between her hands. Kandel joined her.

"So, your opinion, Agent? Fit for field duty?"

Lau sighed, before pulling out the file of Jessica Fraser someone had picked up for her. She scribbled something down before leaving the file on the bed and limping back to her workstation. Kandel followed suit and took position behind her own desk, not even looking at the brand new "WIA" marking drawn across the picture of the brunette described in the file.

* * *

And so it happened that Jess remained in the Base of Operations. There were hardly any objections. She was too tired, and understood she would be more of a burden than an asset on the field. So any time she didn't spend with the councelor assigned to her by Kandel, she helped around the base. Lau thought it would be bad for morale for everyone to be reminded of another injured Division agent out of action hanging out inside the base, and so asked Jess for her SHD insignia and gear, which she gave up surprisingly easily. In reality, Jess didn't want to be an agent at the moment. The title would have reminded her of everyone she'd let down, even though her therapist Mark tried to convince her otherwise. She seamlessly blended in the day-to-day life of the base. Most of her time was spent in the Medical Wing, where her experience as a medic came in handy. Paul Rhodes didn't mind her helping out with maintaining Division Tech, and he finally had someone who listened to all of his conspiracy theories. She watched silently from the corner as Captain Benitez directed her fellow agents during their missions, trying to suppress her feelings. It didn't matter how many times she spoke out her mind, everyone adamantly refused to let her call herself useless. Agent Lau was her strongest supporter. Jess had figured out quickly that she was in charge after Commander Chang's death, and expected Lau to hate her for hanging out at the base when she could have done so much more good by being out there, saving the city. It was quite the opposite, in fact. Lau felt sympathy for her fellow injured soldier, despite their conditions being very different. Her disappointment over losing an agent soon turned into gratefulness for having a regular partner to talk to, someone who could understand what they all were going through. That bond between colleagues soon turned into friendship. They had meals together. Jess helped her when her leg gave out. She helped Jess with her Medical Wing paperwork. They laughed together when Rhodes emerged from his workshop face blackened by a light Sticky Bomb explosion. They greeted the arriving agents after their operations and patrols out in the streets. And after Lau said out loud how much she wished to go outside herself, Jess dragged her desk through the door and practically carried the panicking but amused agent out into the blizzard, where she lasted for two minutes before requesting to be helped back inside to warmth. Over time, the staff of the Base of Operations developed into her new family, and in January she spotted Mark proudly reporting to Kandel how he'd seen a faint smile on her face during their last session. Despite wanting to strangle him for breaking his vow of silence, she secretly curled her lips into another. It was actually quite fun! How had she forgotten that?

Weeks turned to months as the city began to stabilize, largely due to the efforts of Division agents. She hurried to the front door as her exhausted comrades dragged themselves in after their raid to the Cleaner headquarters. Many burns were treated that night, and the cries of pain made her shudder. She almost marched outside to confront the Cleaners herself, but Lau stopped her at the last minute. She faced her, anger in her eyes, but Faye didn't give in. She shook her head, comfortingly grabbing her hand. Jess's fury melted away reluctantly. She pushed back through the crowd to help Dr. Kandel.

Sometime in February she woke up to Captain Benitez coming in to inform her she'd slept through their attack on Lexington Event Center. The op was a success. Larae Barrett was dead. Jess bounced up, shocked by the news. How could they let her miss it?

"Well, we did come by earlier, but me and Dr. Kandel decided against it. It was the first time we'd seen you sleep so peacefully. No frowns, no screams, and all the sheets still in bed. Didn't want to ruin that."

As he left, she checked her memory. It was true, last night had been the first one without the nightmares. Through her ponding, she didn't notice Lau smirking by the door with a cup of coffee on her hand. If she had, she'd have also spotted the distinct lack of crutches.

A few weeks later she cheered with everyone in the situation room as the last Sticky Bomb explosion sent the attack helicopter of Colonel Bliss whirling around on fire, eventually hitting one of the buildings and exploding. She fistbumped Lau and even hugged Rhodes, much to the latter's displeasure, but she didn't care. They were winning. With Bliss dead, LMB would scatter. Their reign was over.

"Are you gonna be okay, Jess? I mean wasn't he one of them?" Lau asked. For a second she wondered what she was talking about. Then it came back. The warehouse, the man lying on the street, her cold hands frozen on the trigger ready to end her life…

"No, I'm not. I doubt I'll never be "Okay" after that, but I'm not stuck in it either. He made his choice, and died for something he believed in, died trying to save innocent lives. Their methods were wrong, but atleast they tried, and that must have been enough for him. So it must be enough for me too."

Lau nodded. This matter was best left buried in the snow. Both were swallowed by the cheering crowd and went their separate ways. But the healing of Jessica's scars was apparent to them both. Hope was blossoming in the winter chill.

* * *

Eventually, spring swept away the dark winter of New York, and with it came the time of new beginnings.

"I'm coming too."

"Huh?"

Agent Lau lifted the gaze of her only eye from her backpack. The last few months spent recovering in physical therapy and working out had paid off, and the Medical Wing had finally cleared her for field duty. She'd kept herself occupied at the shooting range, and Jess had been busy with medical duties. But here she was, standing next to her desk with an outstretched arm, clearly waiting for something.

"Come on, I need my stuff. You don't want me out there blind and deaf, do you?"

Realization hit her. "Are you sure? Have you been cleared?"

Jess shrugged. "Technically, no. But my sessions ended weeks ago and Kandel doesn't treat me like a dead puppy anymore, so I consider it a good sign. Besides, what could they do? Restrain me?"

Faye let out a little laugh. In reality, Mark had told her just yesterday this would happen soon. She snuck a glance at him as he walked out the medical wing and spotted the pair. When he noticed Lau staring, he gave a thumbs up. She slid open one of her drawers and picked up a watch, an armpatch, a Smart Lens and a Division antenna stashed there. She blew the dust layer off before handing them to Jess who eagerly reclaimed her equipment. As the AR view opened up once again, the text "Welcome back, Agent Fraser" flashed across her vision. She smiled. When the antenna connected her to the global Division network, that smile deepened as the countless red spots that had almost crushed her months prior had large patches of green peeking through. Seemed like other agents had been busy around the country.

"Well, Agent Fraser, wanna help me make our mark on this city?"

"Agent Lau, I thought you'd never ask," she responded. "But Agent Fraser was the First Wave agent who missed their wave and fell into despair. My callsign in the army was Haze. It can be my new codename."

Lau was confused. "Why do you want a codename? Isn't your own name good enough?"

"Come on, codenames are awesome! You call Agent Ward by her codename too!", she said, referring to the Philadelphian agent they had talked to after Agent Dunne went to meet her.

"Jess, I hate to tell you, but that's her real name."

"Oh. Well, that explains a lot! Whatever, you get the idea. Let's just go. I have to try out my new friend. The R&D has been busy lately." A few taps on the watch followed. Behind her, loud whirring came to life as the new built-in drone bay unleashed its resident, a Division combat drone.

"I call her Valkyrie!" she announced proudly.

"You name your devices?" Faye questioned.

"Of course! Don't you?"

"No! What kind of an idiot does that?"

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. She's a brand new prototype utilizing microwave technology. Rhodes asked me to test it, but based on initial lab results I'd rather just keep it," she rambled on. Faye sighed. Well, as long as it did its job. Jess wasn't amused by her attitude.

"Oh, chin up, Ms. Pirate. Love the eyepatch, by the way. Didn't you talk about going out just now? I'm itching to get to know these Cleaners everyone's always talking about!"

She grabbed her assault rifle as they walked towards the door, Jess's Defender Drone announcing their approach. Onlookers never let it leave their sight in case the rotors got too close to their head. Lau gave them all an apologizing look before unholstering her own weapon.

Harsh sunlight greeted the two agents after the darkness of the decontamination tunnel. Birds celebrated their emergence with their lively song, the last remains of snow quickly disappearing to make room for lighter seasons to come. Screams of the Dark Zone, gunfire of West Side Piers and the explosions of the underground greeted the new arrivals with their deadly melody, the world preparing to strike them back down. But it didn't matter because at last, it was time.

Agent Haze was finally in action.

* * *

Translations

Vitun ääliöt - Fucking idiots

Päästäkää irti - Let go of me

Perkele - Satan, The Devil etc.


	5. Epilogue: Departure

The Division 2 Agent Origins

Agent Haze

* * *

The walk back to the White House was a short one, with no further complications. Black Tusk had tried invading the city again, but their defeat at Ronald Reagan Airport had really set the faction back, with especially True Sons moving to their territory in an attempt to reclaim their former reign of the city. So much had changed during these last few months, with the collapse of the Division network, the betrayal of President Ellis and the re-emergence of the Hunters. But setbacks didn't strike them down, because every victory was like a flash of sunlight in the darkness. The restoration of national SHD communications had been one of the best, well worth the fight in Federal Emergency Bunker. Her shoulder still hurt from the sledgehammer blows of the Outcast lieutenant, but getting to chat with Faye had been well worth the effort. When the distress call had came, she'd left tearful goodbyes to her and the other agents who stayed behind to keep New York under control, everybody wondering whether it would be the last time they saw each other. But now with their network back and hostile factions falling back, they were more powerful than ever. Sure, Aaron Keener was still out there, and they all knew he was not finished with them. His dead drops found in Washington D.C confirmed the rogue still active, and it would only be a matter of time before a manhunt would be declared to force him into his final confrontation. It might not happen now, and it might not happen in Washington, but it was coming, and they all were eagerly waiting for the chance to put an end to him.

Manny Ortega turned to her as she entered the situation room through the upper courtyard with a can of soda she'd found while patrolling. He grinned, pleased to see her alive and well.

"What's up Sheriff? Did I interrupt your nap?"

"Yes, unfortunately. And could you stop calling me Sheriff? You call every agent who arrived in Washington that. It gets confusing, at least Johnson could be a Deputy."

Manny laughed. Jess hated to admit it, but his good mood was as contagious as Green Poison.

"Sorry, I don't have toys for all of you. This little guy," he said and picked up the plastic sheriff, "represents the whole Division effort in the city, minus Kelso, 'cause she's a narcissist and demands her own. Who am I to say no to that?"

"Fuck you!" rang a pissed off voice from the other room.

Manny sighed and set the toy down. "Well, anyway, I wanted to give you a heads up. We may have found Emeline Shaw hiding in the Zoo, and there are many upcoming ops in the outskirts of D.C. And every squad wants you."

Jessica spit on her drink. Manny rushed to protect his maps as she coughed, trying to clear her throat.

"Me? Why do they want me?" she asked through hacking breaths.

"Sheesh, I dunno. Maybe for your dazzling personality. Maybe they want to learn more Finnish profanities. Or maybe because you're the only one who actually specializes in protecting their team instead of trying to blow everything up as hard as possible. I swear, ever since Ward brought that grenade launcher in, we've had to scrub tiny Hyena pieces off our walls every other hour…" his voice faded as he noticed Agent Haze staring at the wall, deep in her thoughts. He snapped his fingers in front of her, attempting to break the trance. "Haze? You still with me?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's just… nice to be needed."

"Well get going then! Zeta Squad's at the helicopter already, and they're an agent short after Wright broke his foot."

Jess nodded and ran out as she heard the rotors starting to spin. A few minutes later, as she witnessed the lights of the capital glowed in the setting sun from way up in the air, she thought back to everything that had happened. The life of an agent was not an easy one, and their fight would only end after death, but until then they would give it everything they had, one bullet at a time, one victory at a time, to save what remains. Because they were The Division.

And history would remember them.


End file.
